


First Time

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agony, Angst, Crying Castiel, Crying During Sex, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time, Gentle Dean, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Guilt, Guilty Castiel, Love, Loving Dean, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time with Dean feels like his first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is NOT non-con, but could EASILY be read as such. 
> 
> The back-story: Dean genuinely loves Castiel, and is as gentle and loving as possible, but Castiel hates himself for loving Dean.

Every time with Dean feels like his first.

 

The pace is agonizing, too slow, too raw, filled with too much of the emotions he shouldn’t be feeling, laden with too many promises to keep, heavy with too many words they’ll never say. He’s laid out on the bed-sheets, open and exposed and trembling, and it hurts too much to feel. His eyes are screwed shut because it hurts too much to look, and he’s grateful for the silence because anything Dean had to say would hurt too much to hear.

 

His body arches into Dean’s touches, but his mind is in another time, in another place, in the entryway of a warded warehouse. The lights are flickering and a shower of sparks is raining down upon him. Dean is standing towards the back, loaded shotgun poised and ready to aim. If he’d known Dean would have done this to him, if he’d known that one simple man would have caused him to Fall, he’d have run away and never looked back.

 

And then he’s dying, by the hands of two different archangels, being torn atom to atom, and the only constant in _Dean._ He’d known he was in too deep the first time, but it was too late by then, too late the moment he laid a hand on him in Hell and forever marked him as his own.

 

Dean’s presence is ruinous, his touch corrupting. Dean takes what he wants and he doesn’t ask many questions. Dean pushes, and pushes, and he gets what he asks for. It’s impossible to say no to him. Castiel isn’t sure why he keeps coming back for more.

 

Dean pulls him back to the here and now with gentle words and even gentler touches, and Castiel has never hated him more. “I love you,” Dean says, and Castiel feels himself break a little bit more.

 

Dean forces him to feel, takes him apart with soft touches and softer words. His poisonous fingers, his blasphemous lips draw traitorous sound upon traitorous sound from Castiel’s lips. It feels like Dean is destroying him on a molecular level, but still his body strums from pleasure and writhes on the bed. It’s a deeper part of him that aches.

 

Dean wrings every ounce of pleasure from him until he feels desert-dry, and then he does it again.

 

It isn’t until Dean lays himself down beside him, sated, that Castiel begins to cry. Dean just comforts him the best way he knows how, pressing barely-there kisses against his skin to chase away the tears, words of praise and awe and worship tumbling from his lips.

 

Castiel tries to chase away the too-full feeling that overtakes him. He wants to run, he wants to hide. He never wants anything to do with Dean Winchester ever again. He isn’t sure why he stays, but he does.

 

He wishes he didn’t love Dean, but he does. 


End file.
